


Too Cold for Comfort

by AlannaLioness



Series: Winterhawk Week 2k15 [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, I know nothing about Siberia, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Violence, Miscommunication, Swearing, Theme: Cold, Winterhawk Week, cuddling for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaLioness/pseuds/AlannaLioness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mission went south, and now Clint and Bucky are stuck in a Siberian cabin until back-up can make their way through the snow storm. Oh, and the power's out. Awesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Cold for Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to Winterhawk Week, Theme: Cold.  
> Originally posted on my tumblr natthewombat.tumblr.com

 

           Watching Clint trudge along ahead of him, his legs starting to struggle with the knee high snow, which is getting deeper by the minute, Bucky can’t help but think that the mission had been a clusterfuck from the get-go.

           

            _It had started when the mission had come down from on high, well, from Maria, which was pretty much the same thing. When she’d announced it in the briefing, Clint and Bucky had been wearing matching looks of confusion.  The two of them were almost never paired together. Not because they didn’t get along or anything (Cause while they both had a streak of sarcastic A-hole in them, they recognized it in each other and had actually bonded over it.).  But because they both preferred being at a distance, watching from somewhere high. They both had the skills required for it, get in, get the info, and get out. It certainly wasn’t above their skill level by any means; it just wasn’t their specialty. But alas, everyone else was needed elsewhere, and they both had knowledge of the area. So they shrugged their shoulders and accepted it. _

 

_The real shit show started when they heard where they were going._

 

_Siberia._

 

_Motherfucking Siberia._

           

            Bucky fucking hates Siberia. He hated it in the Cold War and he hates it now. As they walk through the trees, Bucky can feel the storm getting stronger, building itself into a blizzard. The wind is getting steadily stronger, roaring as it rushes through the trees.

           

            “How much farther?” Bucky shouts at Clint.

           

            “Not much!” Clint yells back.

           

           They’d left the car a few miles back, where the road had ended, at the edge of the wood. They’ve been walking since then, barely talking, trying to conserve energy. Bucky wonders if the Hydra base is still burning, miles and hours behind them.

 

_Once they’d reached Siberia, things had only gotten worse. The base they were supposed to be infiltrating was in the industrial zone of a mid-sized city, and there was way more activity than intel had said there should be._

_They’d been doing early morning recon on a roof nearby, looking through binoculars from a safe distance, and it had been noticeable right away._

 

_“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, as he watched people quickly scurry from their cars into the base. He quickly counted the guards he could see, all of them bundled up to keep out the chill._

 

_“There are at least eight more guards than Maria said there’d be, and that’s just on the outside,” Bucky said. Beside him, Clint’s teeth clattered as he shivered._

 

         Clint is shivering so hard he almost drops the keys twice. His hands are shaking so bad he can’t get the key into the lock. Bucky finally takes pity on him. He takes the keys from Clint, puts them in the lock, and shoulders the door to the safe house open.

 

         The safe house /cabin isn’t very large. One floor, a living room with a fireplace, a small kitchen towards the back, and a hallway to the left of the entryway that probably leads to a couple of bedrooms. Bucky isn’t entirely sure what’s down the hallway though, because the sun is setting, the shadows are growing long, and the damn lights won’t turn on.

 

          Bucky looks at Barton, who has collapsed to the ground and is trying to remove his dripping boots. Despite the dim light, Bucky can see that his lips are almost blue. He throws his heavy pack to the ground and turns back to the door.

 

          “I’m gonna go find some wood for a fire,” Bucky tells Clint, “I think I saw a woodshed beside the house.” He shoves out the door and closes it behind him. If he doesn’t get a fire going and heat up Clint, the guy isn’t going to last until the morning when their back up is supposed to arrive.

 

_When they’d checked in with Maria and told her that the base was more staffed than expected, she hadn’t seemed surprised._

 

_“New SHIELD has been working at shutting down a few other bases in that part of the world,” She’d told them, “ I was worried they’d choose this place as their backup. Can you still complete the mission?”_

 

_They’d told her they could, and had started planning infiltration and extraction for the next day. It should have been easy. And it had been, at first. Despite the extra security, they’d been able to get into the base and to a computer terminal. They’d started downloading the information when Clint noticed an anomaly._

 

_“There’s a prisoner manifest, “ Clint said, “None of the intel said anything about prisoners being kept here.” And that was when someone else had set off an alarm. And when Clint got noble._

 

            In the woodshed, Bucky finds plenty of bagged dry wood. Grabbing a few bags, he heads back to the house. When he gets inside, he finds Barton curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a quilt he found God only knew where. His wet clothes are in a heap on the floor. Bucky shucks his waterproof outer layer and gets down to building a fire. There’s kindling in one of the bags so he starts with that. He builds a combo teepee-log cabin, his personal favouite, as it starts quickly but lasts is you build it right. From his pack, he pulls matches and soon the wood is blazing before him. He hears Clint tumble off the couch and shuffle closer. He lets out a contented sigh, despite still shaking from the cold.

 

            “I fu-fucking hate b-being cold.” he says through chattering teeth.

 

            Bucky can’t help but roll his eyes at him.

 

            “That would be less of a problem if you actually knew how to pack for cold weather.”

 

            “One,” Clint says, pointing a finger through the folds of the blanket, “Not all of us were boy scouts as kids. Two,” another finger emerges, “it doesn’t matter what I did or didn’t pack, cause my bag got blown up along with that Hydra base. “

 

            “Which wouldn’t have happened if you travelled with more than one backpack that mostly just contains explosives.”

 

            “Pretty sure the manual says pack light.”

           

            “It also says be prepared for the mission. And as the mission was in _Siberia_ , one would think that would include more than one set of warm clothes. I mean seriously, _layers._ Layers are always necessary in this damn country.”

 

            Clint glares at him, obviously at a loss for a comeback.

 

            “Not a fan of the cold either?” Clint asks instead.

 

            “No,” Bucky says, “I hate it. But unlike _you_ , I actually prepare for it, instead of just hoping for the best, as if not doing anything will just make it go away or something.”

 

            Clint laughs at that, which turns into an extended violent shiver. Bucky reaches into his pack and tosses a sweater and pants at Clint. He gets up and gathers Clint’s wet clothes. He goes to hang them in the bathroom so Clint can have privacy to change. As he hangs them on the towel rack, he realizes there is no way they will be dry by morning. But it doesn’t matter; Clint can just wear his clothes back to the tower. Something about that thought makes his heart stutter, but Bucky shakes his head to dispel the feeling.

           

            As Bucky exits the bathroom, he sees that Clint is pulling on the sweater, his back muscles rippling as they disappear under the material. Bucky shakes his head again and walks forward. Clint collapses down to the floor again, somehow even closer to the fire, Bucky sits beside him.

 

            “Sorry,” Clint says after a beat of silence.

           

            “For what?”

           

            “For getting us into this mess. We should have just gotten on the Quinjet.”

 

            “No. It’s fine. And you were right. If we hadn’t stayed behind, the Quinjet never would have made it out of there.”

 

            Clint smiled softly at him. His lips are still dangerously pale.

 

_When the alarm had sounded they’d looked at each other and just rolled their eyes._

 

_“Of course,” Bucky said. “’Cause no 'easy 'mission is complete without an alarm.”_

 

_Clint slammed a number of keys and looked at the computer.  “Well, at least it wasn’t us. Looks like a prisoner escaped.”_

 

_“Good, we can use the chaos to get out undiscovered.”_

 

_They’d peeked into the hallway. Besides the echoing shouts of men chasing a quarry, the hallway was empty. They walked down the hall, heading towards the closest exit, as they rounded a corner, they walked straight into a black-haired girl wearing a truly ridiculous amount of purple. She was immediately defensive, until her eyes locked on Clint._

 

_Two sets of eyes went comically wide._

 

_“What are **you** doing here?” They both asked in unison. Bucky blinked, eyes flickering between the two. _

 

_“My job,” Clint said, just as the girl said, “Escaping.”_

 

_“You set off the alarm?” Clint asked._

 

_“Wasn’t part of the original plan, but yeah. Side effect of escaping. And it’s actually working to my favour. Someone fucked up all their cameras so they’re all running around like chickens with their heads cut off.” She raised a meaning-filled eyebrow at Clint, who just grinned._

 

_“Okay, **what** is going on right now?” Bucky finally asked. _

 

_“Oh, sorry. Bucky, this is Kate. Kate, this is Agent Barnes. I was training with her before SHIELD fell. She went off the grid after DC.” Clint said. He turned to the girl, Kate, before continuing. “I thought you’d used your dad’s money to go underground?”_

 

_“I did,” Kate said. “And Hydra’s been chasing me ever since. They caught up to me 2 days ago. They caught me off guard, and I was outnumbered. I was unconscious until this morning.”_

 

_At the girl’s words, Bucky finally actually takes in her appearance. She’s disheveled. Her hair’s a mess and there are rips in her purple sweater. Her eyebrow and lip were obviously split, but both have started to scab. There’s a growing bruise along her jaw, and it promises to be colourful._

 

_“You okay?” Bucky asked.  Kate looked at him and there was a hardness to her eyes, but it is obvious her foundation has been shaken._

 

_“I will be.” She said, “I just want to get out of here.” At her words, Hydra goons came bursting around the corner, opening fire when they spotted the trio. They ducked back down the hallway and Clint grabbed his radio from his belt._

 

_“Change extraction plan.” He said to the agent in the quinjet, which was parked at the extraction point across the city.  “We need the Quinjet here. This has turned into a rescue mission, and we’re come out hot.”_

 

          Clint is still shaking, despite being wrapped in two quilts, and a sleeping bag, and being as close to the fire as he can without getting burned. Bucky is worried. He gets up from his spot and heads to the kitchen. The cupboards are full of non-perishables and good quality vodka. But he finds what he’s looking for. Soon, he has a kettle going and a mug ready and waiting.

 

          “Is this a SHIELD House?” he yells at Clint as the water starts to boil.

 

          “No,” Clint says. “It’s one of Natasha’s.”

 

          “That explains it.” Buck says as he pours hot water over the cocoa mix. He brings it back to Clint and carefully puts it in his hands.

 

           “Drink this. It’ll warm you up. Normally I’d put you in a warm shower, but the heaters out to. All that’s coming out of the taps is cold. Sorry.”

 

           “It’s okay,” Clint, says, “I’ll be fine.” Bucky really hopes he’s right.

 

_Despite being chased through the Labyrinth of a base by too many Hydra members to count, they’d been able to lay a number of the explosives that were in Clint’s bag._

 

_Kate was right, the lack of useable cameras was really throwing the other team off. But not forever. They got cornered eventually. On the roof of all places._

 

_This is what Bucky gets for wanting to be high up. They were on the edge of the roof, and were seriously outgunned, when their one and only miracle happens. The Quinjet appeared behind them. Immediately, Hydra fired on it, but it fired back. The Hydra goons were dead in minutes. With little time on their hands, the Quinjet had lowered its doors and they’d been instructed to jump over._

 

_Kate had just cleared the gap and landed in the jet’s bay, when more goons had swarmed onto the roof. They’d shot at the Quinjet, which had swerved to protect the agents inside._

 

_The Quinjet had just begun returning fire when a groaning sound was heard on a huge gun post rose from the roof._

 

_“Guess they got the anti-aircraft back online,” Clint grumbled. He locked eyes with Bucky, who was a little way across the roof, hiding behind a vent out put like Clint was. Bucky could see the decision Clint was going to make; he nodded at the archer, who nodded back._

 

_“Get out.” Clint said into his radio. “We’ll distract and blow the building. Pick us up at safe house NR6784 tomorrow morning. Get that kid some medical attention first.” The Quinjet took off._

 

_Bucky and Clint locked eyes once again before diving back into the fight. They moved quickly and with precision, leaving chaos and confusion in their wake. They fought their way to the roof entrance. From there, they ran down two flights of stairs, through a floor of offices, and then crashed through a window onto the fire escape. All the while being pursued by Hydra goons. Again. They hit the ground running and Clint hit the button hanging from his belt loop. They’d just ducked into an alley when the first explosion went off.  After that, they just got bigger and bigger. At one point , there was a whoosh and heat washed over them, despite being blocks away._

 

_“Think it hit their gas supply?” Clint asked from where he leaned against the wall, panting._

 

_“Probably.” Bucky said. “Come one. It’s another two blocks to where the car is with my gear. And we need to get your side bandaged before we head to your safe house.”_

_Clint looked down at his side, only just realizing he was injured._

 

_“Awwww, bleeding, no.”_

 

_Getting to the car had been easy. Once there, Bucky had cleaned and bandaged Clint’s side and shoved him into the passenger seat._

 

_Bucky had driven out of the city, listening to Clint’s directions to the safe house._

 

_They’d driven for hours, through snow covered fields and small villages. The snow had started to fall about an hour before they’d stopped the car. They’d pulled over on the side of a mostly forgotten back road and started to trek into the forest. The snow had begun to fall thicker and Bucky could see that Clint had quickly become soaked to the skin. He’d been glad to finally see the cabin through the trees._

           

            “How’s your side?”

 

            “Okay. I’ve had worse.” Clint shakes again, teeth clattering.

 

            “Okay,” Bucky says, “Time for drastic measures.” He strips his shirt off and starts to tug at Clint’s blanket cocoon.

 

            “No. Stop. What’re you doing?” Clint says.

 

            Bucky stops, looking Clint in the eyes.

 

            “Your body temperature is still dangerously low. Best way to warm you up is body to body.”

 

            Clint seems to get it, because he nods. Slowly, Bucky unwraps Clint’s blankets and then removes Clint’s shirt. Looking down he sees that Clint’s bandages are still wet from the snow.

 

            “Clint!” Bucky admonishes, “Why didn’t you tell me your bandages are wet?”

 

             “Oh,” Clint says, looking down, “I hadn’t even noticed. I, uh, can’t really feel it? That’s probably bad, isn’t it?”

 

             “Yeah, Clint. That’s bad.” Bucky quickly grabs his bag and drags it over to Clint. He removes Clint’s bandage, cleans the wound, and re-bandages it. “‘Kay, you’re good.” Bucky says.  “Now, gimme a sec, I gonna rearrange us to warm you up.”

 

             Bucky leans his back against the couch, which they’d dragged closer to the fire, and then drags Clint between his legs. He pushes Clint’s back to his chest and then bundles the two of them up in quilts and sleeping bags. He wraps his one arm around Clint’s chest, but makes sure the other is separated from Clint’s skin by a quilt. Slowly, Clint stopped shaking.

 

           “You’re so warm,” Clint says.

 

             “Yeah,” Bucky says, “It’s a serum thing. Lucky for us.”

 

             Clint nods, and then sighs contentedly, settling more firmly into Bucky’s chest. A few minutes later Clint squirms, resettling again.

 

            “Clint,” Bucky sighs. “What are you doing?”

 

            “Sorry, I just was worried you were uncomfortable. I don’t want your legs to fall asleep or something.”

 

            “I’ll be fine. Just, sleep or something.”

 

            Clint moves his hips a little more and then stills, but not before Bucky notices a problem. Clint’s movement had caused Bucky’s pants to shift, and he suddenly realizes he has a growing problem. Shit. He takes a deep breath and tries to remind his dick that Clint is a friend who needs his help right now. There is nothing romantic or sexual about the situation. Besides, Clint is straight. But his dick doesn’t want to listen. All it cares about is that Bucky has an attractive guy in his arms. An attractive guy he’s been crushing on for weeks. He takes another deep breath and suddenly realizes his flesh hand is gripping Clint’s side pretty hard. He releases Clint quickly and is about to apologize, when Clint makes a hurt sound. In the next second, Bucky can feel Clint’s entire body freeze.

 

           “Shit,” Bucky says. “I am so so sorry. I didn’t mean… Did I hurt your side?”

 

           “What? No,” Clint says quickly. “The wounds on the other side. I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have...”

 

           “What?” Bucky asks. Clint takes a deep breath.

 

            “I am sorry about the deep breathing and the weird needy noise that just came out of me. I know that you’re straight, and I am sorry if I am making you uncomfortable. My body is not really listening to logic right now.”

 

             Bucky pauses for a moment, and then, instead of saying something normal or questioning something else in Clint’s statement, he just blurts out : “I’m not straight.”

 

             There is silence for a moment.

 

             “You’re not straight?” Clint asks.

 

             “No, I’m not. I’m bi. Really, incredibly bi.”

 

              “Huh,” Clint says. “That actually explains a lot.” Suddenly, Clint pushes his hips back against Bucky’s so that they are flush. And then he _grinds_ his assinto Bucky. Bucky gasps, arm once again gripping Clint.

 

              “What are you doing?” he manages to choke out.

 

              “You’re bi, I’m bi, we’re obviously attracted to each other. It seemed like a good plan. Unless, you don’t want to. ‘Cause we don’t have to. I can stop and we can pretend this never happened.”

 

              “No, I mean yes. I want this. I _really_ want this.”

 

              “Good,” Clint says, before shuffling around so that he’s facing Bucky, his legs thrown over Bucky’s and curled around his back. Their chests are inches apart and Clint looks directly into Bucky’s eyes. Slowly, Clint raises his hand and cups Bucky’s cheek. “Hi,” Clint says.

 

              “Hi,” Bucky says, smiling. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Clint’s mouth. Clint sighs contentedly.

 

               “Man, I am really glad the feeling came back to my face,” Clint says. Bucky chuckles.

 

               “Yeah. And I am really glad you’re not straight. I was sure I was gonna be nursin’ this unrequited crush for decades.” Bucky says.

 

               Clint grins at him. “Well, I can tell you right now, not so unrequited.” He kisses Bucky, deepening it quickly, running his tongue along Bucky’s bottom lip. Bucky moans into it, opening his mouth for Clint. Bucky moves his hands to grip Clint’s hips and grinds the other man down into his lap. They both moan together. But then, Clint starts giggling.

 

               “What?” Bucky asks.

 

               “It’s just,” Clint tries, but all he can do is giggle. He takes a deep breath and finally gets himself under control. “This really isn’t what I was picturing when you said ‘drastic measures’.”

 

               Bucky groans under Clint. And then, taking advantage of Clint’s distraction, flips the two of them so that Clint is on the floor. Clint grins up and Bucky, and Bucky can’t help but smile back. He leans down and kisses him again.

 

              In the morning, they’re almost disappointed when their back up shows.


End file.
